One In a Million
by Requiess
Summary: She was the girl with knifes, he was the man with the world on his shoulders. They were never meant to cross paths, but it was rather impossible when they were wandering down the same road.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: One In a Million**

**Rating: T**

**Pairing: Clove x Gale**

**Warning(s): Violence, romance, and language**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Summary: She was the girl with knifes, he was the man with the world on his shoulders. They were never meant to cross paths, but it was rather impossible when they were wandering down the same road. **


	2. Chapter 2

It was all a game of numbers. What were the _odds_ that you would be screwed? Of course, as the Capital would claim, anything truly could happen. But really, what were the odds? There were so many factors that contributed to the chances- but few of them actually mattered.

Which district? The district an individual resided in greatly impacted an individuals chances of being reaped. For example, if an individual lived in a lower district with a high percentage of 'career' tributes, their chances would drop down dramatically. If they lived in a higher district, they may have had to taken tesserrae. In that case, their odds could easily multiply.

What financial status? Again, tesserrae.

What age? Every year the odds would steadily increase for everybody, as their name would go in once more than the year before.

As much as the Capital would deny it to their very core, the fact was simple. Unless someone seriously pissed off the very President himself, it was all one huge, elaborate, game of numbers.

* * *

_**Clove**_

"Again!"

The knife sliced smoothly through the air, the blade glistening as it reflected the sunlight. With a soft thud, the knife stuck directly in the middle of the black bulls-eye.

"Again!"

I raised a brow, flipping the compact knife in my hand before I reached back. With a small movement of an arm and flick of the wrist, the knife sped through the air again. It moved fluently, almost like an extension of myself- right in the bulls-eye.

"Again!"

I quickened my pace, flicking a knife to the bulls-eye once more.

"Again!"

Bulls-eye.

"Again!"

"Brutus.." I groaned in protest. Training for The Hunger Games was my life, and knife throwing was my passion. Yet, the hours of training were getting tiring. I was perfect at throwing knifes- I knew it, and so did Brutus. I had more important matters to tend to, like volunteering, for example. It was finally my big day- the morning of the Reaping I was chosen to finally volunteer- and I was stuck at the Academy, with Brutus, doing something I had long perfected.

He didn't seem to see it my way, though. His features just became more stern. If it was even possible for such a jackass. "Again."

I threw the knife, hitting the bulls-eye once more.

"Again!"

I huffed, throwing the knife once more before turning to Brutus. "We're out of knifes."

"Good," He muttered monotonously, raising his arm around the empty gym. Nobody else had to come in on Reaping Day- not even Cato, the male tribute. Cato wasn't too bad- he was strong, powerful, and a somewhat sadistic douchebag. Needless to say, we got along quite well. Still, I thought it ridiculously unfair that he was probably already arriving at the District Center, while I was getting harassed. Brutus cleared his throat, "Well then, I will see you on the train." He dismissed me.

I didn't waste a moment after being dismissed before heading towards the door. "See you later, Brute."

The Academy was in the middle of downtown. It was no coincidence, either. District Two was incredibly proud of our expertise in the games. After all, how could we not be? There no doubt- we were the best. As I reached the District Center, I raised by brows at the amount of people already in place. Being a 'Career' district, nobody except the Capital workers were ever really stressed during the Reapings. The Reapings were more like an odd social event for the unsociable. Nobody really enjoyed wasting time on meaningless pleasantries. It was just not how we were raised. I walked over to the shortest line, impatiently waiting until I finally had to deal with the Capital worker.

It was a new woman, I noticed. She looked up at me with her dull hazel eyes. "Next?" I stepped forward. "Hand," I narrowed my eyes at her before offering my hand out. I liked blades, I never said anything about needles. Or the - even slight- pain that the stupid Capital machine caused. Especially not when performed by a Capital jockey. Nevertheless, she just blinked dumbly and grabbed my hand, poking it with some machine. When it beeped, she pushed my finger down hard on the paper- a small growl escaping my lips. "Next," Her voice was just as monotonous as before, almost as if my presence didn't intimidate her.

Although I had long gotten use to it, it still aggravated me more than anything when people underestimated me. From instructors calling me a "child", to strangers rolling their eyes at me when I told them my opinion. The worst thing was, I couldn't do anything about it. I had tried, only once. Then proceeded to fantasize about it every day since. It had been my second day of senior training- about two years ago. An obese, drunk man decided to tell me what part of town I couldn't go to because it was, as he had called it, 'unsafe for a pretty little girl,'. The man infuriated me more than anything I had before encountered, so I reached for my knife...

After the doctors decided to announce to my instructors that the man no longer had any use of his right arm, I was told that if I attempted anything similar, I would be thrown out of the Academy and therefor would lose my right to volunteer. I was convinced that he was just being dramatic and that if he really tried hard enough, he could manage to be limpy- the instructors didn't happen to agree.

Pressing my lips together, I walked towards the fifteen year old girls section. The girls were mostly blonde, speaking bluntly with each other. My nose twitched, the thought of the surrounding girls a bit more than slightly irritating.

My attention was grabbed my a loud, familiar, stomping of heels. I looked at the dark stage, watching as the Capital escort walked across the stage. "Welcome, welcome." She said giddily, my hand touching the hip where my favorite blade laid flat against my skin underneath the thick fabric of my dress. The sound of her Capital accent echoes in my ears, a sort of high pitched siren sound. "Now, I have a very exciting video for pleasure, and all the way from the Capital itself!" She squealed.

The video was the same as it always was. Babies, treason, the whole works. Truthfully, nobody really cared, but they showed it the dull video came to a close, the Capital barbie squeaked. "Oh, I just love that!" She announced to the silent audience.

My eyes rolled, the words absolutely ridiculous. What, exactly, was there to love about the over played video?

After a moment, she finally continued talking again. As obnoxious as her voice was, the sooner I got to volunteer, the better. Therefore, in that one occasion, her voice was worth half-listening to. "Alright, as usual- gentlemen first." The statement earned a few chuckles from the audience. From what, I couldn't be sure. It was either that they were sure Cato would win- which, by the way, I happened to know otherwise. Or, the much more likely reason, they were laughing at her word choice of gentlemen. District Two wasn't exactly known for being a chivalrous area. Regardless of what others described our District as being, the way of life was simple. Everyone for themselves. Kindness was fatal. Perhaps it wasnt exactly a universal view, but at least for those of importance. The Escort ignored the audience, as usual, and walked toward a clear bowl with folded white paper.

Unless she was truley as dense as she appeared, she took far too long to pick out a single name. Everybody knew, every year, there would be a volunteer. By the end of the reaping, everybody forgot all about the original names called. Although everyone in the Academy and their families knew who was chosen to volunteer, that still made up a disgustingly low percentage of the districts citizens. Therefore, right along with the Capital, the vast majority would watch to see who the next Victor would be.

She walked over to the microphone, clearing her throat obnoxiously loud before unfolding the white paper. "Imanii Lowers," The unfamiliar twelve year old waddled nervously out of his section, making me roll my eyes. Was the kid really so stupid that he thought nobody, for the first time in nearly fifty years, would volunteer? To be fair, it did take a few moments, but just as the skinny kid was about to hop on stage-

"I volunteer!" I turned, watching Cato as he leaped on the stage, crossing his arms and smirking at the cameras. _Douchebag, _I thought with a small smile. Cato might have had a rather... jackass persona going for him, but the eighteen year old and I were on rather friendly terms. Not friends, exactly, but we shared a love for sadism and sarcasm that let us tolerate each other.

"A volunteer?" The escort asked with false enthusiasm. She honestly couldn't have been legitimately that surprised. It just couldn't happen. "Well, what's your name, dear?"

"Ludwig. Cato Ludwig." His smirk didn't falter, and he just winked. A few giggles erupted from the crowd, making me roll my eyes. It was only from a few select girls- but it was still obnoxiously common. Although I couldn't quite understand why, most girls in the district thought him irresistible. I thought he was decent looking- nice features, oversized forehead. He was arrogant- not neccessarily a bad quality, but it was still irritating. Just one more reason I couldn't understand all of the hype.

"Oh, how nice." The escort beamed before continuing, "Now, for the lucky lady..." She hummed, walking across the stage. She picked out a name more quickly than she had the male name, probably figuring out that her dramatics were not necessary.

As she settled back in front of the microphone, she looked up from the paper at the audience before continuing to unfold the paper. I bit my lip, readying myself for my big moment. "And the lucky lady is...Jacie A-"

Before she could finish reading off the name, I found myself shouting steadily. "I volunteer." I didn't wait for an invitation before walking quickly to the stage, climbing up the steep steps. I walked determinedly to Cato's side, they way I had always envisioned. Cato didn't waste the time to look at me, instead keeping his smirking gaze steady on the camera. I didn't mind, though. I looked at the camera, my eyes narrowing.

"Oh!" The Escort gasped dramatically. "Two volunteers!" My fingers traced the blade under my dress. "And what if your name, sweetheart?" Her tone sweet and slow...

_She did not, _I assured myself uselessly. The first words the bitch had said to me- on national Panem television- and she had called me 'sweetheart'? I had to redirect my breathing, remembering what Brutus had told me. Do not lash out until the arena. Yet, as I watched the screen next to the camera, her eyes blinking rapidly, the thought infuriated me further. I took a moment to calm myself before answering, "Clove Caphry." I growled.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you, District Two's tributes for the 74th Hunger Games."

The cheers were deafening, increasing only as Cato and I locked hands, raising our joined hands up in the air. One of us was going to return Victor. I was going to return Victor.

* * *

**Authors Note:**

**The next chapter won't be in Clove's point of view, rather Gale's account of the District 12 Reaping. I probably will have Gale's point of view occasionally during parts of the story that I believe it to be neccessary. Otherwise, however, it will remain a story of Clove's point of view.**

**Anyways, leave a review and tell me what you think? Constructive criticism always welcome. C:**


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note:**

**Okay, so as I warned, this is my attempt at Gale's point of view.**

* * *

"How many times is your name in today?" The words sounded so simple, but we both knew they were more than that. I pressed my lips together, staring at the ground as my mind raced.

Finally, I resolved to look back at Katniss. "Forty-two," I replied honestly. The look on her face was morbid, solidifying the exact reason I didn't want to tell her. "Guess the odds aren't exactly in my favor, huh?"

* * *

_**Gale**_

It was my last year. The very last year my name could be chosen. Next year, I would be nineteen- too old to have my name entered. Countless people in the Seam celebrated the occassion annually, but as I watched Rory get ready for the Reaping, I couldn't bring myself to celebrate the occassion. Even if I didn't get chosen, it could still be a loss. Rory wouldn't be safe for six more years. He was only twelve and already had his name in three times as a result of the tesserrae he took out against everyones wishes. As much as I loathed to admit it, we had needed the extra food, but the burden shouldn't have been his to bare. It was my job to support our family- a job that he didn't need to help with.

"Ready?" I asked my younger brother, his eyes blinking towards me. My mother, Posy, and Vick were out the door a few minutes before the first horn sounded, but now that I heard it three times, I knew we had to go.

Rory looked up at me for a minute before nodding, "Uh-huh." I chuckled, holding the door for him. "I hope we get back early tonight."

"Any why is that?"

"Prim said she was going to show me something about Buttercup."

The thought made me chuckle, thinking about Katniss' relationship with the miserable cat. The walk to the District Center wasn't long, and it appeared that almost everybody had already signed it. When we reached the area, Rory froze, his eyes scanning the area. "Just go get your finger poked, it won't hurt. The sooner you do, the sooner you get to get bit by Buttercup." I reasoned lightly. I wasn't sure if it would work or not, but it seemed to.

"Okay," He agreed shakily, his voice sounding wary. A pang of guilt hit me as I watched him walk away. Deciding to take my own advice, I stepped in to a shorter line. My eyes scanned the area- searching for any sight of Katniss or Prim. When I didn't see them, I sighed. They may not have been related by blood, but the Everdeen family was almost like an extension of my own. They were family, and despite their title, everybody worried about family at the Reaping.

"Next." I turned my attention to the Capital worker at the desk. As she opened her mouth to speak, I stuck my hand out. This was my sixth Reaping, I obviously knew how everything worked. She took my blood and pressed it to the paper. After a moment, her machine beeped and she waved me off. "Next,"

The crowd was dense, I found, as I worked my way to the very back of the crowd. When I finally settled in, I looked once more for Katniss, Prim, and Rory. Kathniss was the only one I could see, but she was too busy staring at the screens in front of the Justice Building. When I heard a familiar clicking followed by a harsh silence, I looked toward the stage.

Effie Trinket had never been a district favorite. She wore bright clothes, even brighter make-up, and her skin appeared a different shade every year. She alone was a bitter reminder of everything the Capital stood for- everything that my district had learned to hate. Yet, the Capital escort seemed completely happy. She either didn't know how much she was hated, or simply didn't care. Either way, the general opinion of her never wavered.

At least, I knew mine never did.

"Welcome, welcome, _welcome._" Her Capital accent was as foreign as ever, the tone almost sickening. Regardless of how many times I was forced to listen to it, no matter how often I mocked it, no sound was as infuriating. My eyes trailed over to Katniss as Effie paused. I was surprised to see her looking right back at me, her eyes frantic. I found myself mouthing words that I had questioned myself.

"It's gonna be okay." Katniss nodded slowly, her eyes going back to the stage. Mine followed.

"Happy Hunger Games!" She boasted proudly. "And," She added dramatically, causing me to roll my eyes as I mouthed the predictible line as she spoke it. "May the odds be _ever _in your favor." Effie smiled before continuing, "And now, I have a video brought directly from the Capital!"

I rolled my eyes at the mention of a video. She showed us the exact same video for as long as I could remember. The video was sick. It displayed some sort of reasoning behind the Hunger Games, although it always seemed a bit... eyes went to Katniss, who was watching me. I forced a small smile before mouthing to her, "War...Terrible war." I saw her body shake with surpressed laughter that brought a real smile on my face.

As I watched the video, I couldn't help but think of the irony. The President spoke of orphans, motherless children. Yet, in the same video, he used it as the reasoning for sending children to be slaughtered every year. I bit the inside of my cheek- the thought was disgusting.

The video was ended my a squeel by Effie Trinket. "Oh, I just love that!"

Effie took a moment, the entire district seeming silent. "As usual," She finally continued, "Ladies first." She walked over to the glass bowl, filled with folded peices of moved her hand around for nearly a minute before picking a name and walking back to the microphone. She slowly unfolded the peice of paper before saying the one name that I hoped, more than anything, she wouldn't.

"Katniss Everdeen."

I couldn't see the look at Katniss' face, but I watched as she was escorted to the stage. Prim ran out behind her, screaming her older sisters name. A group of Peacekeepers were restraining the twelve year old, who resolved to start sobbing. I begrudgingly looked up at the stage, watching Katniss who waa staring at her sister with a blank, almost foreign expression.

Effie wasted no time before walking over the the bowl full of male names. I didn't pay any attention, though, my eyes locked on Katniss. Time seemed to be frozen, her face cement. I couldn't imagine what was going through her mind, but I knew it couldn't be positive.

I almost missed Effie speaking the male tributes name, but when I heard the last name, I too found myself frozen. Hawthorne.

My eyes searched frantically around me, hoping people were staring at me. Hoping that it had been my first name. Going up against Katniss, I realized, would be only the second worst fate. The first would be to see my little brother slaughtered...Watching as my whole family saw Rory killed by the hands of the Capital.

No, it had to me. But as my eyes met the screen, I saw a familiar twelve year old in the isle. Rory. I had no time to think, but I knew that they weren't getting him. The Capital weren't getting my brother as a pawn. I made my way to the isle, watching Rory take a few guilded steps. The sight was something of nightmares. That was when I knew- I just knewthat I couldn't let that happen.

"I volunteer as tribute!" The statement seemed to leave my mouth, but my brain was yet to catch up. All around me, I heard gasps. Some probably because they knew about mine and Katniss' freindship, others because we actually had a volunteer.I watched Rory's face as he turned around at me. His eyes were wide, and mouth open. I had to force myself to look away before studying EffieTrinket's face. "I volunteer."

The smile on Effie's face seemed genuine as I walked up the cement stairs. Once I got on the stage, Effie pulled me to the center by Katniss. "It seems District Twelve has its very first volunteer!" She squeeled before continuing, "What's your name?"

My eyes met Katniss'. She looked betrayed, her eyes wide. They looked at me like I was a monster, and I just hoped she could understand. I looked at her for a minute before looking back at Effie.

"Gale Hawthorne."


	4. Chapter 4

_**Clove**_

"Really? So what if you saw smoke?"

"From where?"

"The distance."

"A little more specific?"

"Far away."

"How far?"

"Far."

"_How _far?"

"Will you answer the damn question?"

"Well I _would _answer the _damn _question, if you'd answer mine."

"Listen kid, if you want to live, you'll answer the fucking question."

"Or what? You'll kill me?"

"I don't have to k-"

"But you think you could!"

"Oh, I _know _I could."

"Listen bitch, you're _nothing _but a washed-out Capital wh-"

The tension had been pretty thick ever since we got on the train. It all started when Cato decided he was entitled to make sexual jokes, not quite subtly aimed towards Enorbaria. It was actually funny at first, watching her treat him like a freshmenat the Academy. He wasn't the most intelligent, that we all knew, so a few of her questions actually caught him off guard. They were only mainly survival facts, with a few how-to-catch-a-tribute questions thrown in loosely.

As they continued, though, I felt like I needed to intervine. I knew from experience that Cato had no respect for women whom he considered weak. I also knew from the past half hour, that Cato considered Enorbaria little more than a weak last victor. I couldn't quite figure out why- the girl with razor sharp teeth was as close to an idol as I ever had, but apparenly the douchebag thought otherwise. Despite my feelings about either one of them, I knew an arguement between the two would end up in a bad ending for me. She wasn't just his mentor, after all, she was mine as well. Not only a mentor, but a lifeline while we were in the arena. Brutus was our mentor as well, but he was even less approachable.

"Cato, shut up." I huffed, grabbing for a delicious biscuit off of a silver plate. "I want to eat in peace." I took a bite out of the biscuit, the flavor outstanding as it melted in my mouth. I moaned in joy. The Capital may have been filled with morons, but the idiots knew how to bake.

Cato stopped arguing, but made a face as he watched me eat the biscuit. "Fatass." I heard him mumble. My eyes narrowed as I glared at just looked at me, his brows raised.

"Brutus," I said quickly, trying to change the subject. "How long will it take to get to the Capital?"

"About another hour." He huffed lazily before pressing the glass to his lips again.

"Great." I groaned.

"What, can't handle a little waiting?" Cato taunted harmlessly. It wasn't exactly vicious, it was just Cato. Yet, I still couldn't help myself.

"Nah. I _am _the youngest tribute from Distrit two..ever." I smirked. "I'm not exactly used to waiting."

"Shove it, Caphry." The words made it difficult to supress laughter. It was the same old Cato-couldn't stand when someone did anything better than him. Getting chosen to volunteer while fifteen? He threw a fit- one nearly as worse as the previous year, when he was one of the final two in the selection process and not chosen.

The room was quiet again before Brutus spoke up, "Should we speak of tactics?"

"I already have a plan." Cato announced proudly. I raised my brows- doubtful the idiot could come up with anything useful by himself.

"Really?" Enorbaria purred, as if questioning the validity. "Tell us."

"Well..." He began. I rolled my eyes, knowing full well that I was in for one of the longest hours of my life.

* * *

"What was that?" I asked, feeling something in the floor click below my feet.

"We're slowing." Enorbaria explained dully, her arms crossed. She nodded her head in the direction of the windows. "Look." She urged.

Hesitantly, I stood up. I walked over to the largest window, holding tightly to the bars that surrounded it. The city that we were approaching was huge-elaborate. More luxurious than even District One- I knew it had to be the Capital. As I stared, I noticed how different the city was from my home district.

Our buildings were all made of brick or stone. They were simple, but showed simple hints of remarkable craftsmanship that my district was proud of. None were exactly huge, but there was still a large variation in size. That wasn't what the Capital looked like at all- at least not from a distance. The buildings were huge- lapping at the clouds that hung above the city. They did not appear to be made of brick or stone- instead, some sort of odd, reflective, metalic material. Huge buildings had sides that appeared to be made entirely of glass. They seemed to have little grass- every hedge butchered from its original shape, I noticed as we neared. The Capital really did seem to live up to its odd reputation.

Just as I moved to get a closer look, my vision was blocked my some sort of darkness.

"We're in the tunnel." Enorbaria deadpanned before shreiking, "Cato, get your ass in here!" The noise seemed to echo which really sucked because, well, it was rather deafening.

I groaned as I watched the idiot walk in. "Yea?" He asked, brows raised at our mentor.

"Youre about to interact with the Capitalites for the very first time. Don't smile too much, brute."

I smirked at Enorbaria before looking back out the window. It was dark at first, but after a few more bumps under my feet and splashes of light, we exited the tunnel. We were going at a much slower pace, but I barely noticed. What I did, however, notice was the idiots shreiking on the side of the train. I didn't know how to react, so I just stared. There had to be hundreds of people- children, adults, even animals. They dressed in bright colors with odd peircings, tattoos...Even their skin color varied. Not just by shades, but by spectrum. They were laughing, screaming-crying, pointing.

"You're from District Two, don't look like such a dumbass." I heard Brutus call. I looked over to see Cato smirking out a different window, Brutus looking pointedly at me. I rolled my eyes and looked back at the window. I watched the people, craving for my attention. It was all so disgusting...so pathetic.I tilted my head, staring at were all like a bunch of aliens- their sadism a common alligance, only to be outshined by their desperate need for realization. It was as Brutus had described to me when I was younger, but to see it first hand...

It was different. Not necessarily worse, and sure as Hell not better. Just _different._

The train continued to slow until we were at a complete stop. The area the train stopped was without a doubt the most dense area of the entire station, people gathered around together. "Cato, Clove- lets go." Brutus' voice was deep and strong- not even Cato questioned him. I nodded, following Enorbaria off of the train.

The very first thing I saw when I stepped off of the train was light. It was blinding, and as much as I tried to blink it out, I couldn't. It was flashing- probably, I suspected, cameras in the hand of Capitalites. I couldn't see anything, so I began fumbling, squeezing my eyes closed tightly. I felt a small hand on my wrist, gently guiding me through the crowd. At first I was tempted to throw the hand off, but as I began to walk more steadily, I openly welcomed it.

Within what seemed to be a few minutes, the screams faded away. After a soft click, the noise stopped completely. "Well, isn't that always a bitch?" I heard Enorbaria mumble rhetorically. I opened my eyes, only taking a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. We were in a small, plain white room. Enorbaria was next to me, I noticed, still having a loose grip on my wrist. The fact that it was her who had led me through the crowd was odd. Afterall, it was Enorbaria. A woman who I had thought more likely to push me down and laugh.

"Where are we?" Cato asked, crossing his arms.

"The remake center." Brutus grumbled.

"The what?" I asked, confused. I'd never heard of it before.

"Your own personal Hell, sweetheart." Enorbaria grinned, letting go of her loose grip on my arm. "Have fun, we'll see you at the Tribute' Parade.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Clove**_

There were few things that matched the sensation of hair being ripped forcefully from a body. It was quick and relatively painless- the anticipation was annoying, the shock abrupt. The first time an idiot put a strip over my leg with a sticky substance attatched and ripped, I immediatly pulled for my knife. When I came up empty, it was a cruel reminder that I had been stripped of my clothing. I had no weapons on me.

Of course, I could obviously kill them with my bare hands. The thought had crossed my mind on more than one occassiom. It was a useless thought, though, I reasoned. Of course I had been trained in hand to hand combat for years, but it still was not my niche. Of course, I doubted Capital workers could put up much of a fight. Yet I had no reason to compromise my position. I was going to go in the games- become the youngest Victor in District Two's history. The fourth youngest in the entire history of the games. And, if I had it my way, I would be a Victor who left the arena with blood dripping off of my hands. Slaughtering people outside of the arena may have been tempting, but not neccessary.

_Just wait until the arena, _I reminded myself, gritting my teeth as another strip of hair was pulled off of my leg. "Are we almost done, here?" I heard myself growl.

"Nearly. We just need to wash you off and see if we missed anything, then you're off to see Ginniffer." A female voice, drenched in a Capital accent called from above me before clicking her tongue and ripping off another patch.

The rest of my time in the room seemed to go by rather quickly. After the shock, I was able to block the rest of the pain in its entirety. I had been through much worse at the Academy, I reminded myself. Maybe not arecently, but before I knew the magic of knifes. I was small, thought of as weak. Pain was a nearly every day occurance. That when I was young, though. Before I was able to kick everyones ass, before I became feared by those I had trained with.

I was laying on a metal surface- somewhat like a hospital mattress- when I heard a beep. Sitting up, I was confused by the sight of the woman who walked in. She was tall- maybe even taller than Cato. Her skin was a light shade of purple, body shaped like a thin rectangle. Her hair was white- not blonde, but white like the shade of flour, crisp paper, or even snow. She wore no smile on her sharp features, her lips were pressed together in a straight, tight line. A black dress hung off of her, appearing to be a nearly perfect triangle. It came to a point on her neck, and then drooped down in a nearly straight line to her very inner shoulders. The dress ended at her mid- thighs, a sort of odd look.

I could not be sure if I was mystified or horrified. Crane and Flickerman seemed so normal compared to the woman. She looked absolutley ridiculous. Unique- I couldn't be sure if she was hideous or gorgous. All I knew what that she looked like a bitch. "Are you Ginniffer?" I asked, raising a brow at the woman who was staring me.

"Unfortunantly, it would seem." She deadpanned in that ridiculous accent of hers.

_Correction, _I thought. _She's a bitch. And I hate Capital bitches._

"Aren't I lucky?" I asked biting the inside of my cheek.

"Obviously." She scoffed before rolling her eyes."Of course." She grumbled.

"What?"

"There's two new stylists this year. Of course this would be the year I get stuck with a child." She groaned. Ginniffer grabbed my arm, trying to raise it above my head before I pulled it back with a growl. She just looked at me, "If you want me to be able to pull of something..." She looked at me with what seemed to be disgust, "Decent," She spat the word. "Then allow me to survey my..canvas." The last statement ended as more of a purr. It was a sickening sounds, almost like a noise Enorbaria had made in the train. I hesitated for a moment before swinging my arm upwards, in the direction she had attempted before.

Ginniffer nodded simply to me before grabbing my wrist, running her hand down my arm before rolling her eyes. "Sit up straight." I growled but complied once again, arching myback for good measure. "I said straight." She growled.

I smirked before correcting my position. "There."

Ginniffer nodded once more. "Okay. One moment..." She insisted before I watched her eyes trail down. " Well, I'm sure I can come up with something. After all, I am Ginniffer Stone."

"Awesome." I grumbled.

Within the next hour, I learned three things. First, Ginniffer Stone was so conceded that she would be a fair contestant in a 'Bitch War' with myself. To be honest, if it wasn't for my longing to slit her throat, I couldn't be sure who would win. Second, apparently, according to the bitch herself, I should have some reason to be ashamed of my body. Apparently I wasn't going through puberty fast enough for her standards, and compared to the usual eighteen year old tributes she was given, I was as flat as a slab of granite.I really couldn't understand the huge fuss, or if I was supposed to be insulted. I had volunteered to slaughter- to bring pride to my district. To myself. Not to be some whore! Not to mention, I wasn't flat. Nothing on me was really big, but honestly, my whole body wasn't big. Finally, and most importantly, I wasn't sure how I was going to survive until the games.

I wasn't worried about the games themselves, but the days leading up...? Within an hour, I was having fantasies of choking a rather high ranking woman. Slitting her throat with my knife or sticking one of her beloved needles in to her neck.I couldn't deal with such irritating people. I never was gifted with patience- not for anyone. Especially not for the Capital.

I had to wait nearly a full hour of her prodding and insults before she finally finished. "Go, see what I have done." She motioned the the mirror in the corner of the room. I huffed, sliding off of the metal bed. I walked to the corner of the room, raising a brow at what I saw staring back at me. I didn't look the same. I mean, obviously I was recognizable, but still so...different. My chest was gold-plated, the material appearing to be some sort of scaled armor. The material hung down to the middle of my thighs. Black leggings clung to my legs, only to be met by some sort of odd black combat boots with a gold plated toe. My hair was thrown up in to a bun, with two weird gold, stick-like objects going through it. All in all, I wasn't sure what to think. Nothing seemed to go together in anything other than color. I didn't need to worry for long, though, before Ginniffer stood behind me.

"You're young," She stated simply. "I didn't want to go for a warrior, because that would be too obvious. No..." She shook her head. "No. Now, your costumes says 'I'm young and fierce.' A child-"

"I'm not a child!" I snapped.

"Of course not." She taunted, prompting me to glare at her reflection in the mirror. "But you are one of the youngest tributes. And the fact that you are from district two..." She shook her head. "People will have already made assumptions. Your costume will just further prompt them. In a fabulous way, of course. I am Ginniffer Stone."

_And the conceded bitch says her name once more, _I thought before rolling my eyes. "Great." I deadpanned. "When can I go?"

"Now. Enorbaria is waiting for you, I believe." Ginniffer clicked her tongue before stepping out feom behind me. Not needed to be told twice, I swung open the heavy door and got the Hell out of there as fast as I could manage. I couldn't have made it even so much as ten meters down the hall before, as Ginniffer had said, I saw Enorbaria waiting for me, leaning against the wall.

"Hello dear," Enorbaria greeted dully, her eyes trailing up and down my body. "She's done worse." Was all she said about my appearance before continuing. "Right, so now you just have to go on the Tribute Parade. I'm sure you've watched in many times, right?" Before I could answer, she continued, "It's one of the absolute most important parts of the games. No, it isn't satisfying. It can, however, get you sponsors. Which can be vital, even with all of the Cornucopia supplies." We began walking.

"What, then?" I asked. "Do I just smile or is there a-"

"Don't force a smile!" Enorbaria corrected quickly. "They don't care about how you _feel_. They just want you to look like a killer. Well, for now anyways. Just give them their perfect tribute. Show them some personality afterwards."

I nodded, stopping when we entered a large area filled with tributes, mentors, escorts, and designers. "Anything else?"

"Talk to no one. We missed the Reapings, so we'll need to watch them tonight." She looked around. "Get on the second chariot. The one with the black horses. Cato," She spat the name. "Doesn't seem to be here yet. He should be, soon- Brutus knows what he's doing." She paused before looking pointedly at me, "Control yourself, don't loose your temper."

"Come on, have a little faith in me." I smirked. Her expression didn't change and I groaned. "I wouldn't mess this up, it's my year." I reminded her.

"Not intentionally." She allowed quietly. "But it happens. Even careers get careless. So dont."

I nodded. "Okay. So-"

"Yeah, go." Enorbaria nodded. I smirked, walking in to the crowded area. It wasn't hard to find the familiar chariots. I had to shuffle my weight, lifting myself up to stand on the back. I gripped on to the thin black bar, balancing myself.

After I stabalized myself, I took the opportunity to look around. I could only see the chariot in front of me, and the one behind. District three's tributes were both on the chariot. They both looked undestinguishable. Unless they were hiding some odd intellectual quirk, they could both be blood bath victims. When I looked ahead, however, I noticed that District One wouldn't be so easy. The boy was tall, built like Cato. He had blonde hair and blue eyes, with a pink and purple feathered costume. The girl he was talking to looked even worse. She had blonde hair and green eyes, a tall and thin frame. She was twirling her hair as she spoke to her District partner, laughing at something he had said. They both looked like typical tributes from the luxury district- second only to my district. Second to me.

My observations were cut short when I felt something behind me weigh the chariot down. It was Cato. His costume was similar to mine, except it was all gold plated. He looked like some kind of warrior, tall and powerful. He grabbed on to the bars, pulling himself up to stand next to me. He craned his neck around in a circular motion before smirking. "Have you seen the meat?"

I raised my brows. "I didn't have time to browse." I said dryly.

"Oh, it's good." I didn't miss how his eyes lingered on the girl from District One as he spoke. "Real good."

I rolled my eyes, "I'm sure it's v-" I stopped when I felt the chariot move. We began to move forward, and a loud roar came from all around us. Our surrounds lit up as we moved, showing a large stadium filled with thousands of people all around us. They were cheering at a deafening volume. I straightened my posture, a natural smirk falling on my lips.

The cheers continued, as they did every year, as we continued down the path. Then things got quiet. Really quiet. I saw Cato look at me and I shrugged back. The silence lasted a few seconds before, as quickly it had ended, the screaming proceeded. If anything, it became even louder. Satisfied, I moved my eyes away from Cato and forward once again.

And that's when I saw it.

There was a huge screen to the side of the President's stage. And it was focusing on one chariot. District Twelve. The tributes looked eerily similar. They both shared the same dark, black hair. Their skin wasn't pale or dark, but instead an olive tone. The girl looked average but the guy...My eyes focused on the male tribute. He was tall- obviously taller than her by at least a half a foot. His build was impressive- even bigger than Cato's and the male from District One. His face was stern- no smile, no smirk. Yet, even in its position, it looked so..natural. Light and natural.

He was glowing, I realized. No, they were glowing. My eyes narrowed. They were on fire, and the crowd was in fucking hysterics.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Gale**_

"Oh, that was just_ glorious! _" Effie purred as she met us in a cement lobby. Haymitch was at her side with his thumbs raised, a drunken smile on his face. "We'll be all _everyone_ will be talking about- Cinna's going to have a good run, I can just tell..." Effie's voice began to run off in to a slur as she continued to speak. Not the Haymitch kind of slur- the kind where the alcohol had taken full effect, but rather one where her audience ears began to dull and her words no longer became distinct in the persons mind. During our first conversation on the train, I had thought that I was the only person her voice had the effect on. Later on, Haymitch had informed me that it wasn't an abnormality.

It didn't take long for me to be able to block out her voice completely, and I took advantage of the nearly peaceful moment to look at Katniss. She was looking elsewhere, but I couldn't help but feel like I should have anticipated it. Catnip hadn't spoken a full sentence to me since we first boarded the train back in District Twelve, where she slapped me and yelled until there were tears streaming down her face. I wasn't sure what I had been expecting, but I knew I hadn't been expecting _that. _The points she made were valid, but I couldn't help but feel that what I did was right. Prim could pick berries and sell cheese, Rory was decent with snares- even if neither of us made it back, I knew our families would have a decent chance. Besides, a decent chance was better than Rory facing certain death. As angry as she may have been with me, I knew that she would have done the same if it had been her sister's name called.

I watched Katniss as her focus shifted in an entirely different direction. Seeing the blank look on her face, I looked in the same direction as her. I knew instantly, among the crowds, who she was staring at. The tributes looked so different, but their gold-plated costumes made it obvious that they were from the same district. The male seemed preoccupied, talking to a woman who I could only assume was their mentor. She didn't have any of the ridiculous Capital apparel on, so I knew that she couldn't have been a mentor. He was taller than the other tributes, bigger than most of them as well. As my eyes trailed over to the female, I raised a brow in confusion. She was much smaller than her district partner- she couldn't have been any taller than twelve year old Prim. Her hair was black- completely opposite to her district partner. Her skin was pale, the dark freckles across her face visible from across the room.

But it wasn't her stature that confused me. It was her eyes. Her large, emerald green eyes bore in our direction with what seemed to be pure hatred. Despite all reason, the expression of the girl gave me chills.

Haymitch seemed to realize where Katniss and I were looking because, not long after I looked in the direction, I felt his hand on my shoulder. "Let's uh...Let's go upstairs His voice didn't have the same sarcastic quality that it always seemed to have- it was more like he was worried. The statement confused me, but I nodded my head.

"Right," I agreed.

Effie squealed- I couldn't be sure why, but she never seemed to need a reason. We began to walk out of the crowded room and to an elevator. "Every district has their own floor." Effie told us. I rolled my eyes at her eagerness. "Now, since you're from district twelve, you get the penthouse! Isn't that exciting?" She asked as the four of us squeezed in to the elevator.

"Wonderful." I heard Catnip mumble next to me, and I couldn't help but to grin.

After a few quick beeps, the doors opened. As we filed in to the suite, I looked around in awe. The objects in the one room alone had to be worth enough money to feed everybody in District Twelve for a year. Maybe even two. I had always known that the Capital wasted no expense on themselves as the outlying districts starved, but even then- I had never realized to what extent they did just that. As I looked around, I saw Effie grin. "I know! _I know_!" She put her hands together. "I happen to believe that this is one of the best things about this opportunity. Even though you're _here_, and even if it's just for a_ little while_, you get to enjoy all of _this_."

I rolled my eyes at the statement- nobody said anything. Haymitch, Catnip, and I- we might have been different in certain respects, but we all knew the truth. Nobody could live in District Twelve and _not_ have a hatred for the Capital. I knew how Catnip felt, even if she wasn't talking to me. I might have been unfamiliar with the district drunk, but I knew he had to feel the same way. Effie broke the silence, "Why don't you all go clean up before dinner?"

It didn't take me long to find everything- the most time consuming part was trying to figure out the complex Capital shower. There wasn't anything like it in District Two- especially not in the Seam. I took a quick shower and changed in to the odd Capital clothes that an Avox had laid out for me when I was in the shower.

I stepped out of my room, looking around for Catnip. She was already sitting at the table looking even more miserable than earlier. It wasn't difficult to figure out why- she was sitting across from Effie who seemed to be telling Catnip and Haymitch a story. She was laughing, but neither one of them seemed to think it was funny. I watched her talk, leaning against my door. I couldn't make out her words, but I listened as her voice once again turned in to one long slur of words. I was able to stay, undetected, for only minutes before Catnip looked at me. I raised my eyebrows as our eyes locked- she hadn't looked at me directly since we had been on the train. When I saw her smirk, I almost wished that she hadn't seen me at all. I shook my head quickly, hoping she wouldn't do what I expected her to.

"Gale!" She called loudly, patting the seat next to her. All eyes were on me. I narrowed my eyes at her- _of course she'd do that, _I thought. I knew her too well for my own good. I waited a minute before I walked to the table and sat down next to her.

"Hi Catnip," I nodded, glad my best friend was talking to me again. I took advantage of Effie's momentary silence to direct a question to Haymitch. "What was that, down stairs?

Haymitch looked at me before taking a gulp of his drink. It seemed to be some sort of Capital juice- but knowing Haymitch -even for just a little while- I had no doubts that there was something strong added to it. "They're careers."

"What's a career?"

"District One," Catnip said knowingly.

"And two." Haymitch added. "They train at a special academy until they're eighteen- then volunteer. They win it almost every year."

"_Almost_." Effie repeated. "And they don't get _any_ special treatment. In fact, I don't think they let them have dessert. And you can." Effie explained. I rolled my eyes at her. The thought of a bunch of kids being raised to kill was sickening- even more sick than the thought of the games themselves.

"Almost?" Catnip asked Haymitch.

"Well, they're confident. And confidence can be lethal." He paused. "I heard you can shoot?" He asked Catnip.

"I'm_ alright_." Catnip said, her voice uneasy.

I almost snorted at her words. Alright? She was better than alright- she could aim better with a bow and arrow than I had ever seen anyone do. Still, I could tell that Catnip was uncomfortable so I moved to change the conversation. "That still doesn't explain that girl...There's no way she was eighteen."

Haymitch nodded, "We didn't watch the Reapings, so I couldn't tell you names. But she was with Enorbaria-" I didn't miss the way his face contorted as he said the name, "So she must be district two. Now, don't get me wrong- both districts are lethal- but district two.." He shook his head, then shrugged. "Sometimes they let their most... dangerous volunteer early. She looked to be the youngest I ever seen." He paused before clearing his head, "But don't focus too much on individuals now. Tomorrow's your first day of training, and from the looks of things- there's a lot of competitors this year. You two look better than the usual tributes we get, but like I said...Don't get over confident."


	7. Chapter 7

_**Clove**_

The Capital's training center was fucking _ridiculous._

District Two always took great pride in our Academy, but the Academy that I had spent over half of my life in was _ nothing _compared to the Capital. As I walked off of the elevator and in to the nearly empty room, I looked around in awe. It was almost like a dream- shelves and racks were filled with blades and spears, mats lined the floors, nets and climbing rocks lined the walls. All of the equipment was familiar, but it wasn't the same. It was better -all brand new, all untouched. There didn't seem to be any rust or blood- although I couldn't actually tell as they were all encased in glass.

It wasn't perfect, though. Cato and I weren't the only ones there, although we were the first tributes to arrive. There was a small room with men and women from the Capital laughing and talking- the sound echoing off of the walls. In the middle of the training room, a woman stood with her arms crossed. A small group of employees stood in front of the stations- Peacekeepers standing guard in front of the weapons.

As we reached the middle of the room, Cato turned to look at me with a grin. "Just like home, huh?" He asked. I rolled my eyes, feeling a smile spread my lips at the mention of the Academy.

"I guess." I paused, looking around the room once more. "I miss my knifes, though." I nodded to the display of throwing knifes, "They look good, but my knifes are better."

Cato rolled his eyes, probably missing the obvious logic in the statement. My knifes were my knifes- I'd had most of them since my second year of training. They might have been old, but none of them were dull. I had practiced throwing each and every one of my knifes for countless hours. I had perfected knife throwing- was better than everybody else at the Academy, but using my knifes...it had always given me an extra edge. They were my most prized possessions.

I didn't miss his eyes narrowing in on the sword display, either. Knowing Cato, he was probably already imagining the feeling of his first -official- kill. It wouldn't be his first- I could clearly remember him sticking his knife in some poor scrawny kid during training a few years ago. A few of the students had been freaked out by the death, but anybody with half a brain would have figured out the truth. As much as Cato tried to play it off, I knew it was an accident...on his part. As far as the trainers went, I doubted that anyone would ever know the truth. All I knew was that they shamed Cato- the top of his class- in to fighting with an asthmatic who was less than a year older than me. The boy was helpless, despite the best training the Academy had to offer. Everybody had speculated that he was in danger of being dropped from the Academy and then, out of nowhere, he was to fight Cato. A fight with weapons was rare in the Academy, but even stranger- all weapons with the exception of the very weapon that Cato had mastered years prior were excluded from the selection.

I knew that I wasn't the only one suspicious.

My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a loud beep come from the entrance. I looked over just in time to see the elevator doors open, and I watched as two somewhat familiar faces walked out. The first was a tall blonde, who I immediately recognized as the girl Cato had been staring at during the parade. She wasted no time once she looked in our direction, grinning as she jogged over to us. Her district partner- a guy nearly the size of Cato- followed quickly behind her. "Hi Cato!" She quickly said, her grin stretching even wider once she stood right in front of him.

I rolled my eyes at the sight. Either she had been paying really close attention to the Reapings, or Cato had already gotten cozy with District One. Knowing Cato, I had no doubt that the latter applied. I looked to Cato who smiled,"Hey." His voice had changed, almost as if he had forced it to take on an even deeper tone. The blonde girl giggled, the sight nearly making me gag.

It didn't take long for the girl's District Partner to seemingly grow tired of their ridiculous faces aimed towards each other. He cleared his throat. The action didn't seem to have any effect on Cato and the girl as they talked quietly, but I took advantage of the moment and looked up at him. He stuck his arm out towards me and nodded, "Marvel Winchester."

I ignored his hand, "Clove Caphry." I introduced myself.

Marvel looked over at the girl, "Oh, and that's Glimmer- Glimmer Diamond." The name brought me in to hysterics.

"Of course it is." I nodded, a smirk on my lips. I had always known District One had weird names- the recent Victors Cashmere and Gloss coming to mind- but Glimmer's just seemed so much more...More. The two of us stood there, snickering back and forth before a girls voice called to us. I looked over at Glimmer.

"So, Cato and I decided that we're going to make another alliance this year." I raised a brow at Cato who nodded. The idea caught me off guard. A Career alliance was relatively common, but it wasn't as if it was mandatory. Hell, it wasn't even truly tradition. It was just a seemingly random occurrence where the best of the best- usually districts one and two, pledged to kill the weaker tributes off together. Then, when there was only five or six tributes left, the Careers would all split up. Then the real Games would begin as they hunted each other until only one survived. It seemed to be fairly effective, with a few exceptions. There was very little honor towards other tributes while in the arena, so it wasn't uncommon for the Careers in an alliance to completely slaughter each other before a time was agreed upon. After all, a Victor was a Victor- especially when the cause you were fighting for was honor for your district. _"_Are you in?" Glimmer asked.

"Sure, why not?" Marvel said, shrugging his soldiers.

As I looked at Glimmer, I nearly grimaced at the idea but stopped myself. After all, the odds of a Career winning always seemed to be even higher than usual when an alliance was formed. "Whatever," I agreed before quickly adding, "But I get the knives."

Marvel looked at me questioningly, Cato smirked and Glimmer...well, Glimmer seemed to be staring at Cato once more.

It didn't take very long before other tributes began to fill in the room. At first it was the tributes from five- they took one look at us four and nearly ran to the other side of the room. I smirked. Nine came in next, followed directly by eight. It took a few minutes for another beep before the tributes from four stepped out of the elevator. I watched the two as they walked in to the room. District Four was a hit and miss district- some times there would be Career- other times, they would be some of the most unskilled tributes in the Games. I quickly ignored the boy- he was thin and couldn't be any older than twelve. As the youngest tribute ever to be chosen to volunteer for District Two, I was all for hidden talent. But the shifty eyes and awkward walk told me that there was nothing more than met the eye with the boy. The girl was older, though, and seemed to be a lot more confident. She kept on looking over to us, but didn't approach us.

Marvel seemed to notice the girl, too. "Think she's a Career?" He asked.

Cato scoffed, "We'll see sooner or later, won't we?" I rolled my eyes.

Districts three and seven walked in together, followed by eleven. Both tributes immediately caught my attention. First, the little girl. She was so small, I couldn't believe that she could even be twelve. She had a small smile on her face, as if she still clung peacefully to her innocence. The sight made my smirk falter. I had been raised a killer, but even I wouldn't want to be the one to put my knife through her. Not that girl. Her District Partner on the other hand..He was huge. He could have easily been eighteen, and was more muscular than almost anyone I had ever seen. He was close in comparison with Brutus. I exchanged a look with Cato, who was now paying close attention. I couldn't help but think that the thought was universal- either he was going to be in our alliance, or we were going to try like Hell to kill him as quickly as possible.

Ten followed quickly before finally, twelve showed up. I stiffened at the sight of them. They- the tributes from the _coal mining_ district- were the ones that had stolen the crowd at the parade. The fucking miners on fire- they had completely ruined the previous night. If that didn't put a target on their backs, specially for my knifes, then nothing would.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

**So, this was primarily just a filler chapter. I wanted to state Clove's feelings and add a few details that will be imperative for the later plot, but I do plan on focusing the training on Gale's point of view. After contemplation, I decided that -because of Gale's presence and friendship with Katniss- it would probably make more sense if I explained training through his point of view. Hopefully that will make things less confusing.**


End file.
